


Stay Forever

by EllieSaxon



Series: At 221B [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff and Smut, John Takes His Husbandly Duties Very Seriously, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Smut, These Two are Ridiculously in Love, Vows, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:41:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6400723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieSaxon/pseuds/EllieSaxon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over a year and a half after first meeting in a club and going home together, John and Sherlock say 'I Do'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wedding Day

**Author's Note:**

> In the end notes of 'Permanent Stay' I mentioned a little headcanon, people seemed to like it, and this fic was born!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd, not brit-picked. I edited as best I could, but I'm just one small woman trying to make her way in the world.

* * *

 

Standing in the Holmes’ guest room. John let out a deep breath. This was it, he thought as he slipped the silver band off his finger and settled it back in the velvet box alongside a second, matching band. He had only been wearing it for a minute – just to try it on again – but his hand already felt strange without it. Well, in just under a half hour’s time it would be back on his left hand ring finger, where it belonged, and where it would stay forever.

There was a knock at the door, and John turned just in time to see Lestrade – his eyes closed – stick his head in the room. “You decent in here?” he asked.

“It’s safe, you can open your eyes.” John chuckled. “Come in.”

“You can never be too sure. I may have walked in on your intended sans trousers, a minute ago.” Lestrade cringed.

“Oh? And how’d he look?”

“Like he’s for your eyes only.”

John laughed, that he most certainly was. “So was there anything you needed, other than to tell me you were peeping on Sherlock?”

“Oh, right, yeah. I’m supposed to be holding on to the rings until the big moment, and Sherlock told me you have them.”

“Yeah, they’re here. Whatever you do, don’t lose them.” John said handing Lestrade the box containing his and Sherlock’s wedding bands.

“They are now under police protection. They couldn’t be safer.” Lestrade teased. “So, are you ready? Are you getting nervous?”

“I’m actually not that nervous.” John admitted. “I’m excited, more than excited, but not really nervous. I know this is right, that _he’s_ right. He’s right for me, and I’m ready for this.” It was true, it _was_ right. Sure there were one or two butterflies in John’s stomach, a few thoughts of _‘I hope I don’t trip.’_ and _‘I hope my vows go smoothly’,_ but really, John had never been surer of anything as he was of marrying Sherlock. He was so ready to be married to Sherlock Holmes.

“Good, because if you get cold feet and back out now, I might have to kill you.”

“Isn’t it a bit late to be giving me the ‘you break his heart’ talk?”

“I didn’t think you would” Lestrade sighed. “But seriously, I don’t think you understand how much Sherlock’s changed since being with you. Yes he’s still impulsive, a bit abrasive, still impatient.” He chuckled. “But, well, he notices the effect he has on people now, and he takes that into account.” He paused, as if looking for the right words. “ What I’m trying to say is Sherlock has always been a great man, but now, because of you, he’s also become a good one. You’ve brought out his… compassion, and you’ve made him see that there’s nothing wrong with actually caring about other people from time to time.”

John swallowed hard, as he felt his eyes start to prickle. Sherlock had always been amazing, and for anyone to think that John had a hand in making him even half the fantastic, fascinating, wonderful, man he was, was ridiculous. “Greg, I… I don’t…”

“Don’t say anything.” Lestrade said, lifting a hand. “Just get out there, and get in place!”

With one last look in the mirror, John made sure his tie laid flat, secured the calla lily in his buttonhole, and then followed Lestrade out of the guest room.

 

*******

 

John stood in the doorway, watching as their handful of guests milled around the Holmes’ backyard. He and Sherlock had decided to keep it small, just close friends and family, and since neither of them were church and reception hall kind of people, they gladly accepted when Sherlock’s parents offered to host. Well, it was more they didn’t argue when Mrs. Holmes insisted on ‘throwing her baby boy the wedding he and his John deserve.’  Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Holmes were already in their seats with handkerchiefs at the ready.

Deciding to hold the wedding at the Holmes’ really was the best decision he and Sherlock had made.  The sky was clear, the air was crisp, and the sun was out, leaving the late September afternoon just the right temperature for an outdoor ceremony. They had set up the chairs facing the overflowing garden, and the fall flowers were bright and in full bloom, making for a perfect background before which to get married. John really couldn’t think of a more perfect day, or a more perfect place to start his shared life with the man he loved.

“It is rather perfect, isn’t it?” Came the rich baritone he had grown to adore, from behind him.

“I didn’t realize I said that out loud.” John said as he turned to look over his shoulder, and the moment he set eyes on Sherlock, all the air immediately left his lungs. To say Sherlock looked good would be to say oxygen is important, undeniably true, but an almost inexcusable understatement. They wore matching tuxedos, but on Sherlock it was like a second skin, fitting every curve, like he was born to wear it. The silver-grey of the waistcoat and tie brought out the silver of his eyes, and made his fair skin glow like moonlight. His dark curls in a perfect state of disarray. _I get to spend the rest of my life with this magnificent creature_ , John thought, still at a loss for words.

“Like what you see?”

“You could…” John cleared his throat, struggling to find his voice again. “You could definitely say that.”

Sherlock let out a laugh, the deep, genuine, almost carefree laugh that made John’s heartbeat speed up and his knees go week, the laugh that made John fall for Sherlock all over again every time he heard it. “Good,” he smiled, “because I don’t get dressed like this for just anyone.”

“I’m honored.”

“You should be.” Sherlock smirked, and at that they both dissolved into a fit of giggles brought on by excitement and the tiniest touch of nerves.

Their laughter seemed to have caught Lestrade’s attention, who shot them a raised brow from where he stood with Molly and Bill Murray.

Since neither John nor Sherlock wanted to be thought of as ‘the bride’, or as Sherlock said _“there is no place for a bride at our wedding”_ they planned on waking to the altar together, so John gave Lestrade the ‘all clear’ sign.

“Alright everyone,” Lestrade called, getting everyone’s attention, “It looks like the grooms are in position, so I think it’s time to start this thing.”

The guests quickly stood by their seats, and the music started playing. Sherlock had composed and recorded the song himself specifically for them to walk down the aisle to. John thought it was the most beautiful song he’d ever heard, breathtakingly gorgeous, just like the man who wrote it.

“Are you ready?”  He asked, taking Sherlock’s hand and giving it a brief squeeze.

“Impatiently so.”

“Then let’s go get married.”

“Oh, as far as I’m concerned,” Sherlock grinned, “I’ve been married to you for over a year and a half already, we’re just making it official.” 

“Alright,” John beamed, afraid of the real possibility of swooning right there, “let’s go make it official.”

 

*******

 

“Dearly beloved,” the Holmes’ local magistrate – a man in his mid to late fifties – started once all the guests had taken their seats, “we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of these two men, Dr. John Hamish Watson,” oh god, what had possessed him to agree to use his full name, “and Mr. William Sherlock Scott Holmes,” oh that was way, Sherlock had to too, “in lawful matrimony. John and Sherlock have elected to write their own vows. So Sherlock, if you’d like to begin.”

Sherlock stared down at their joined hands for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and looking into John’s eyes. “John Watson, you are the best of me. Before I met you, when I pictured my life, pictured my future, I saw a solitary life. Before I met you, I thought I was destined to be alone, and I made peace with that. As I am sure many here can attest, I am a difficult man.” John couldn’t help letting a small laugh slip at that. “Some have accused me of being cold, and unfeeling. I am rude, I am impatient, I can be childish, and completely oblivious to those around me, and how my actions or words can affect them. I won’t lie, I had cultivated that image. I thought I was meant to be alone, and I believed being ‘the freak’ would protect me.” John swallowed hard as Sherlock started to waver, the subtle sound of a tear entering his voice. Sherlock should never be alone, never, and it hurt to think he spent so long believing it was his lot.

“But then I met you, and you changed everything. For the first time in my life I didn’t want to be alone because I found someone who I not only wanted to have in my life, but also seemed to make it better, who made me better. You are brave, kind, and understanding. You are patient when I am not. You are considerate where I am dismissive. So what you see in me, I will never know; but you must see something, because you accept my flaws, and never hold them against me. You never tried to change me, only to understand me, and in doing so you changed me for the better. You showed me that caring is not a disadvantage, as I so long believed, but rather it is the greatest advantage to have as long as you care for the right person. And you are that person, John, my right person. You are my heart and my humanity. Every ounce of goodness I have within me is due to you, due to your loyalty and your friendship.”

There was a long pause as Sherlock looked upward as if composing himself, and John was starting to think he was done when those blue-grey eyes found his again. “John, there’s something I have always wanted to say, something I’ve been meaning to say always, but never have. Since this is our wedding, now would probably be the time to say it… I love you, John Watson. I love you with everything inside of me. And so my vow to you today is a simple one, I vow to always be there for you, and never question our love. I love you, John. That’s… that’s it. I love you.”

There were some rather audible sniffles coming from behind them, and John felt his eyes start to prickle once again as his vision became blurred. It took everything in him to fight the urge to throw himself at Sherlock, and wrap the man in his arms. He did however lift their joined hands to brush gentle kisses to Sherlock’s knuckles. _I don’t deserve this man._

“Thank you, Sherlock. That was… that was beautiful.” The magistrate said, his voice noticeably huskier than before. “John, if you would please…”

“I’m not sure how I can possibly follow that.” John chuckled quietly, taking a few deep breaths and letting go of one hand to wipe the wetness from his eyes. “Sherlock. Funny, brilliant, amazing Sherlock. I agonized over what to say, how I could possibly put into words everything you are to me, every feeling, emotion, and thought you inspire in me… When I met you, I was broken.” He heard Sherlock take in a sharp breath. “When we met, I was alive, but not really living. I was going through the motions of a normal life, when really I was just floating. Nobody really needed me; the army didn’t need me, and everyone in my life was moving on. I was going through life directionless and purposeless, and I was bitter.” He paused before taking a deep breath and continuing. “And then there was you. You came into my life like a whirlwind, a blunt and brutally honest whirlwind. You came into my life and you saw me, really saw me, but not as a broken man, or as just my past – though you read my past in an instant. No, you saw all of me; you saw who I was, and who I had become, and you saw who I was meant to be. You were, and are, everything I need, Sherlock Holmes. You gave me everything I needed to become who I am now. You understand me as no one else does. Whether it’s a quiet evening at home, or we’re running through back alleys on only an hour’s sleep, when I’m with you I’m my true self, and I’m at peace. I don’t know what I did to earn your trust, your loyalty, or your heart, but I somehow did and I am thankful beyond words, because I am playing so out of my league with you. You took a lonely, broken man, and made him whole again.”

Sherlock shook his head, and blinked away the tears John saw gathering in the corner of his open and honest eyes. “John, don’t be ridiculous.” He huffed.

“Shh, you said your bit.” John laughed. “It’s my turn now, and I’m almost done.”

“Sorry, sorry. Go on.”

“Thank you… I love you, Sherlock Holmes. I think I fell in love with you the moment we met and you showed my just how remarkable you are. I fell in love with you that first day, and I have been falling in love with you every day since… That’s my vow; as long as I am alive, I will love you. Heart, body, mind and soul, I will love you. You are the love of my life, Sherlock Holmes, and I will spend every day for the rest of that life proving it to you.”

“You don’t have to prove anything.” Sherlock breathed, one hand cupping John’s cheek as he leaned forward.

Sherlock’s lips were a hair’s breadth away from meeting John’s when the magistrate’s voice cut through the emotional fog clouding John’s mind. “We’re not quite there yet!”

“Right, sorry.” John blushed.

“That’s alright, I can see we’re in quite a hurry.” He laughed. “Now, John, do you take Sherlock to be your lawfully wedded husband, your partner in life, to love and put before all others, from this day forward?”

“God yes. I mean, I do.”

“Sherlock, if you would now place the ring on John’s finger.” At this Lestrade stood up and hurried to give them both their rings.

Sherlock slid the silver band onto John’s finger, and though he had just been wearing it not too long ago, it felt different to him somehow. That piece of metal forever bound him to Sherlock, it told the world that he loved and was loved, that he’d found his partner and his match.

“And Sherlock, do you –”

“Obviously.” Sherlock said impatiently, cutting off the rest of the question. “Husband, partner, love above all others. I do.”

“Alright then,” the magistrate sighed at Sherlock’s abruptness. “John, the ring?”

Grinning, John slid the band onto Sherlock’s finger; the silver looking beautiful against Sherlock’s pale skin. Oh yes, now the picture was complete.

“With their promises made, and rings exchanged, I must now ask if anyone present has any just cause for why these two should not be joined?” John failed to stifle a laugh as Sherlock turned to glower at their guests, as if daring someone to speak.

“Well, with that out of the way, it is my great pleasure to pronounce you joined for life as husbands. You may now –”

John didn’t wait for the end of the sentence to wrap his arms around Sherlock’s waist and back, and kissed him with such enthusiasm that he lifted Sherlock off his feet. Their chests held flush against each other’s, John could feel Sherlock’s heart beating in perfect sync with his. Even the sound of friends and family clapping around them, couldn’t distract John from the feeling of Sherlock’s lips parting and moving against and with his. Yep, he could definitely get used to kissing a married man.

 

*******

 

Standing atop a small box, a champagne flute of water in one hand, Harry Watson addressed the small group of people. “A lot of you already know me, but for those of you who don’t, I’m Harry Watson, big sister of Groom One, aka The Short One, aka John.”

“I thought I was Groom One.” Sherlock whispered to John.

“No, I’m Groom One, you’re Groom A.” John murmured back. “I want to hear what she has to say, you never know with Harry.” Mr. and Mrs. Holmes had already given a little speech on Sherlock’s behalf and welcomed John to the family, and now it was Harry’s turn.

“Now like I said, I’m the big sister, but for any of you who know us, or know our relationship, you would think John’s the older one. And I don’t just mean because of my flawless skin.” Harry joked. “No, it’s because John has always looked out for me, defended me, and yes, even protected me. We may not have always seen eye to eye, John and me, I’ve probably taken him for granted, and not been as grateful for him as I should, but that never stopped John from caring. No matter how crappy a sister I was, no matter how many times I messed up, John never gave up on me, never lost hope. Because of that, because of John, I didn’t give up on myself.”

John wasn’t sure he deserved so much praise. There were a number of times Harry was spiraling and he waited to step in, and just let her go.

“So, what’s the whole point of this little speech about how awful I am?” Harry continued. “It’s that John is the best man I know. He helped me when I found, lost, and fought for happiness,” at this she smiled down at a tall, olive skinned woman who smiled back at her. Harry and Clara had decided to give their marriage another chance. “and I don’t know anyone who deserves to find that same kind of happiness more than him.

“John, when Mum and Dad passed, I was always sorry that all you had by way of family was me. But today that all changed; today Sherlock became your family. When I look at the two of you, and I see the way you look at each other, I know that you’ve finally found the happiness you deserve, that you finally have the family you deserve.

“Sherlock,” Harry’s eyes now focused entirely on Sherlock, “you became John’s family today, and just as John joined the Holmes’, you have become a Watson. You married my brother, so now you’re my brother too, and as long as you treat John the way he should be treated, I think I can be a good sister to you. To John and Sherlock,” she finished, raising her glass, “and the start of something wonderful!”

As their guests joined in Harry’s toast, John excused himself from Sherlock’s side, and made his way over to his sister.

“Harr, I don’t know what to say. That was beautiful.”

“Well it was all true, Johnny. You’ve done so much for others, especially me, and it just makes me happy to finally see you get something good back.”

“Sherlock is something good.” John smiled. “Something very, very good.”

“He’d better be!” Harry laughed, and gave John a kiss on the cheek. “Now go on, get back to that dashing husband of yours.”

“No need to tell me twice,” John chuckled, “But I’ll talk to you later on though, Harry. And Clara, I’m really glad you’re here too.” John added, smiling at Harry’s not-so-ex wife.

“Me too, and congratulations.”

 

“So she seems to approve of me now.” Sherlock said, greeting John with a kiss. “Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”

“Is it a good thing or a bad thing?” John huffed, rolling his eyes. Really, what went on in Sherlock’s absurd head? “It’s a very good thing! I want everyone to see how wonderful you are. Though I couldn’t give a toss if someone did disapprove, I’ll love you all the same.” Love, he liked saying love.

Sherlock was just opening his mouth to respond when another tinkling of glass interrupted him. This time Molly was the cause.

“Hey everyone!” She said cheerfully. “Greg had to take a call, so his unofficial emcee duties have temporarily fallen on me. The speeches are done, we’ve enjoyed some delicious food, now it’s time for John and Sherlock to have their first dance as man and husband!”

John grinned as Sherlock lead him out on to the makeshift dance floor, wrapping one arm around his waist, and linking his other hand with John’s. They held each other far closer than any formal dance dictated, but John didn’t care, he just enjoyed having Sherlock so close. If Sherlock’s warm eyes and soft smile was anything to go by, he didn’t seem to mind either. The music started, another original piece by Sherlock, and John felt as if his chest was full to bursting. They slowly made their way across the dance floor, and as far as John was concerned, the world consisted of just the two of them; nothing else but the gorgeous, loving man in his arms could ever matter.

“Finally, I have you all to myself.” Sherlock hummed, guiding John in another backwards turn.

“I know. I thought inviting fewer people would mean it would take less time greeting and thanking them for coming.” John sighed. So far Mike and his wife, Becca, and Sarah and Drew had welcomed them to the bliss that was marriage; Bill had decided since he was the one who got John out that night, he deserved all the credit for them getting together; Molly and Greg had promised to save them some interesting specimens and cases – as unfeasible as that probably was – for when they returned from their honeymoon; and Mrs. Hudson had been ‘so happy for her boys,’ she hugged them  so tight that John thought it wise to check them both over for cracked ribs. But John couldn’t complain, his friends were happy for him, for him and Sherlock, and that made an already perfect day even better.

“I do have one question.” John said, Sherlock just raised an eyebrow. “Did Mycroft really bring his PA to our wedding?” Every time John had seen Sherlock’s older brother, the always unreadable Anthea was at his side, though thankfully her ever present phone was nowhere in sight.

“Well we did give him a plus one, and I’m pretty sure he’d cease to function without his most loyal minion on hand.” Sherlock shrugged. “Though I’m starting to suspect she’s just as much the British Government as he is.”

“They do make quite a formidable team.”

“I’m sure. But really John, I’d rather not talk about my brother right now.”

“Of course… So… you love me, huh?” John smirked. “You’re not just ‘exceedingly fond’?”

"They mean the same thing.” Sherlock blushed. God the man was adorable when he was embarrassed. “When I’ve said I’m fond of you… I’ve always meant…”

“I know, Sherlock. I’m only teasing. I’m exceedingly fond, and I love you too.” John said, leaning up to close the distance between them, kissing Sherlock softly, but thoroughly.

“Good.” Sherlock sighed against John’s lips. “Now be quiet. The song’s almost done, and I want to enjoy this moment.”

John just laughed, and let Sherlock’s beautiful song wash over them as their movements slowed down to a sway.

 

*******

 

“No, Sherlock! Absolutely not!” John hissed, trying to keep his voice low so as not to be over heard. The guests were all dancing or talking, and Sherlock had tried dragging John into the temporarily empty house. “The first time I make love to my husband is _not_ going to be while our reception is going on. People will notice.”

“Come on,” Sherlock whined, sliding his hands under John’s suit jacket, “There’s a perfectly good bed upstairs going to waste, and I haven’t really been able to get my hands on you, properly _on_ you,  in days. I want my husband, John. I need to have my husband.” He was practically purring now as he ghosted his lips over the curve of John’s ear.

John shivered, dear God did he want to give in and allow Sherlock to tug him upstairs to Sherlock’s childhood bedroom, and just give in. “Just wait a little longer. Pretty soon we'll be at the hotel, in our suite, and our hands can go absolutely anywhere, everywhere.”

“That’s not soon enough.” Sherlock groaned. “Where’s that man who picked up guys at clubs for insane sex filled weekends? He’d already be upstairs naked by now, and we’d be doing terrible, terrible things to each other.”

John felt as if he face were on fire, he wasn’t so sure he’d ever describe himself like that. “Ah, well you see, he actually picked up the right guy one night, married him, and at the moment, doesn’t feel the need for _that_ kind of insanity.”

“No more insane sex filled weekends?” Sherlock pouted. Christ that mouth.

“Oh no, there are going to be plenty of those. I just mean I only get one first time with my husband, and I want it to be special, I plan on taking my time.” John all but growled as he pulled Sherlock down and captured those soft, perfect lips in a rough kiss. “Surely you ‘d rather our first time be where we’re truly alone, and we can spend hours taking each other apart over and over again, where we lose our voices because we’ve made each other scream.” Alright, so he was playing a bit dirty, but that’s what Sherlock did to him. “I can’t make you scream if we’re getting a quick one off in your old bedroom hoping your parents don’t walk in, or worse, Mycroft.”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Sherlock moaned, pushing John back against the door frame, making his want very apparent, “you did that on purpose!”

Thrusting a leg between Sherlock’s, John ground hard against his husband. “Maybe.” He smirked.

“ _Oh fuck._ ” Sherlock was panting now. “You’re a terrible tease, John Watson.”

“I know, I’m the worst. Now come on, I’d very much like to dance with my husband some more.” John grinned. Husband, he couldn’t stop saying it, Sherlock Holmes was his husband.

“Fine then, just… just give me a second to…” Sherlock said with an exasperated exhale, and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to _calm_ himself.

“Just think of the time you nicked Anderson’s phone, and accidentally saw his private photos.”

“That did it, maybe for good.” Sherlock shuddered. “Now I believe my husband wants to dance, after you, Dr. Holmes.”

“Oh no, I’m pretty sure we established that you’re now Mr. Watson.” John said trying to keep his face serious, it didn’t last long, and they both burst into a fit of giggles. They had a running joke as to who would be the one to drop his last name, each making impassioned speeches as to why the other should take his name. Of course they were both keeping their names, but that didn’t stop them from keeping the joke going. And secretly, John kind of liked it when Sherlock called him ‘Dr. Holmes’.

“So you’re sure you’re still alright with us having different names?” Sherlock asked as John pulled him close and they started to dance, some pop rock love song with lots of piano playing in the background.

“Of course I am. I want to be married to the brilliant Sherlock Holmes, and no one else.”

“And I rather like being married to John Watson, doctor and blogger extraordinaire.”

“Good,” John hummed, “because you’re stuck with me forever.” And, lifting himself on to his toes, he pressed his mouth to his husband’s. _Forever, I get to do this forever._

Apparently Sherlock was thinking the same thing, because John could feel Sherlock’s smile against his lips. “Forever sounds perfect.”

 

*******

 

The reception lasted well past sunset; everyone danced – Mrs. Holmes requested several with her ‘wonderful new son’ – talked, laughed, and ate – and drank – celebrating the happy couple, until finally John noticed Sherlock had had enough, and it was time for them to go.

“I just want to thank all of you for coming out to watch me marry the person I love most in the world.” John said as he wrapped one arm around Sherlock’s waist. “You’ve been through a lot with us, both individually and together. You’ve seen us at our worst and our best, and nothing gets better than today, so I can’t think of a better group with whom to have shared it.”

“Wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” Mike called from near the back.

“I’m glad, I’m glad.” John laughed. “I also want to especially thank my new in-laws for allowing us to be here, and opening up their beautiful home, making this all possible.” Both Holmes’ nodded their appreciation at the round of applause, Mrs. Holmes becoming so overcome with emotion that she had to bury her face in her husband’s shoulder.

“Right,” John continued once the clapping stopped, “with that all said, a town car and wedded bliss await, so Sherlock and I are going to head out. Thank you all again. Truly, thank you.”

“One more kiss for the road!” This time it was Sarah who called out. Well, if that’s what the people wanted, John wasn’t going to be the one to deny them.

“And just so you know,” Sherlock said once John decided to allow him the use of his mouth again., “John and I are going to be keeping each other _very_ busy, so don’t even think of interrupting our se… our holiday.”

 

*******

 

“So we’re going to be keeping each other very busy, are we?.” John sighed as he slumped against the back seat of the car taking him and Sherlock to their five-star suite for the night. Sometimes having a brother-in-law with connections came in handy.

“Oh we’re going to be extremely busy.” Sherlock murmured. He had already undone both their ties, and was starting on the top buttons of John’s shirt. “There’s a reason they call it a sex holiday.”

“Nobody calls it a sex holiday.”

“Fine, there’s a reason _I_ call it a sex holiday.”

John let out a little moan when Sherlock began kissing his clavicle and worked his mouth up his neck. “And that – _ahh_ – and that reason is?”

“That over the next fortnight – I plan to have you numerous times – and in all manner of ways – in order to determine – how sex with a spouse – differs from sex with boyfriend – or fiancé.”

“And you can – _mmmm_ – figure all that out in only fourteen days?”

“Oh no, no, no.” Sherlock scoffed, working his way along John’s jaw. “Research of this magnitude requires years’ worth of data collection, decades even.”

“Decades? Yeah, I can do decades.” John smiled, and pulled Sherlock into his lap, kissing him with everything he had, pouring every ounce of love and devotion he felt into the press of lips against lips.

“Excellent.”

Decades with Sherlock Holmes, there were far worse ways John could spend the rest of his life, but there were absolutely none better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten points to whoever can tell me from where I stole some of the wording for John and Sherlock’s wedding kiss!!
> 
> Super short, slightly smutty epilogue follows. If that's not your bag, you can just end it here, no harm done.
> 
> I love hearing from you guys, so let me know what you think!
> 
> (BTW, it's super difficult naming fics once you've established a theme for the series)


	2. Wedding Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 'I DO's' have been said, and a five-star honeymoon suite awaits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I wasn't going to include any sexy times in this fic, but try as I may, sexy times had to be had. And really, every wedding day is followed by a wedding night!

* * *

 

“Fu – oh fuck – _aaahh_ – Fuck. Oh God, right… right there – _YES_ – Oh Guuaaa! _JOHN!_ ”

John had him pinned to the bed and writhing. Head thrown back against the pillow, eyes screwed shut, sweat plastering dark curls to his forehead; Sherlock was the most gorgeous thing John had ever seen, completely debauched, gasping for air and screaming _his_ name, John’s name. John had done this to him, it was a high he didn’t know he was worthy of, to be the one to drive Sherlock Holmes to the point of such disorder and delirium.

“Sher – _uuuhh_ – Sherlock! You’re – _Ooohh GOD!_ – you feel – _nnngggghhh_ ”

“Yes! Yes, OH GOD _YES_! John hard – _aahha_ – harder! – John YES! YES! John, John _JOOOOHN!”_

Unable to hold back any longer, John picked up the pace, pounding faster and faster into Sherlock’s body. He didn’t know how much longer either of them was going to last, Sherlock’s bucking hips meeting every one of his thrusts. John felt them barreling towards the edge, when suddenly Sherlock’s hands were on his arse, forcing him in harder and deeper with every thrust, and John was lost, lost to the clawing hands, biting kisses, and wanton cries of their lovemaking.

 

“I think…” Sherlock panted, swallowing down air like a drowning man. “I think I blacked out for a second.”

“You blacked out?” John snorted, still trying to catch his breath. Admittedly he was a tad distracted, what with Sherlock going to pieces beneath him and struggling to come down from a rather spectacular orgasm induced high, but Sherlock was a very active participant and John was fairly sure he was all present and accounted for the entire time.

“Yeah, I think I did… You… you _actually_ fucked me unconscious. How did you do that?... Hey, hey stop laughing! This is not funny!” Sherlock scowled, though the flushed cheeks and sex hair lessened the effect slightly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” John tried desperately to get a handle on his laughter, Sherlock looked so put out, but he couldn’t help it. “I know I’m good, love, but I don’t think I’m _that_ good.”

“Well the 18.95 second gap in my memory begs to differ.”

“Wow, down to the hundredth of a second, impressive. Well I’ve never argued with you when it comes to your mind before, so who am I to start now?”

“Hmmmm, I love it when you think rationally. I love everything about you, but especially when you think rationally.” Sherlock murmured softly, rolling them so he lay on top of John, and lowered his head for long, lazy, drawn out kisses. John loved Sherlock’s slow, post-sex kisses. John loved all of Sherlock’s kisses, but there was just something about the way he kissed him after sex, like nothing else in the world mattered but them and the slow, gentle drag of lips against lips.

“I love everything about you too, rational and irrational.” John sighed, smiling up at the beautiful man above him, carding his fingers through dampened curls, and pulled him down to recapture his mouth.

 

“So tell me,” John said, once they’d eventually parted, “how would you say married sex stacks up against dating and engaged sex? Better? Worse? About the same?”

“John, I’m shocked,” Sherlock gasped in fake admonishment, and lifted himself up to hover over John. “A proper scientist never speculates without sufficient data.”

“Observations based on preliminary data, then.”

“Well, in terms of frequency, married sex far outstrips both dating sex and engaged sex. At the rate we’re going, I think they’re going to need to rename this place ‘The Holmes-Watson Honeymoon Suit.’” Sherlock grinned.

He was not exaggerating. So far they had had each other – in one way or another – on the bed twice, against the door of the suite and to the bedroom, in the shower, on the table of the kitchenette, and on the floor of the sitting room.

“That was the plan.” John smirked. “The Blue Plaque should be going up on Monday.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re on track to break our record for number times in a single night.” Sherlock said, sliding to settle himself on his side and tangling his long legs with John’s. “Seriously John, if I knew marrying you would make you so insatiable, I’d have married you far sooner than this!”

“What can I say? You have decades of data to collect, so I thought you’d like to get a head start.”

"Hmmm… head.” Sherlock giggled.

“And you say I’m insatiable.” John said, and rolled his hips - he wasn’t quite ready for another round yet but just give him time – earning himself a gasp from Sherlock. “Not to mention,” he continued, “we’re going to be stuck traveling all day tomorrow, and I plan to have you has many times as I can before it’s all airports and airplanes.” And secretly he’d been hoping to tire Sherlock out, so that he’d be a more agreeable traveling companion. Not that he’d ever admit that to the detective.

“Uuuhhhh,” Sherlock groaned. “Nearly twenty-four hours of travel time. What does it have to be so far away?”

 “I know, I know.” John hummed, rubbing what he hoped were soothing circles on Sherlock’s back. “But then we have two whole uninterrupted weeks in New Zealand. That should be amazing, yeah?”

“You’re just excited to see your ancestral home.”

John frowned, confused. He was Scottish, not Maori. “My what?”

“Your ancestral home. Because you’re a hobbit, and New Zealand’s where the hobbits are.” Sherlock said with a completely straight face, though there was a twinkle of mirth in his eye.

John huffed out a laugh and gave Sherlock a half-hearted shove. “Oh very funny. I know I’m short, but I’m not that short. And my feet are definitely not hairy!”

“Very true, thank god for that. But you do have a disturbing preoccupation with eating.”

“If by ‘disturbing preoccupation’ you mean I think you should eat every day, then yeah. And if I’m a hobbit, then that makes you an elf.”

“An elf?” Sherlock looked taken aback. “How am I an elf?”

“Oh come on,” John rolled his eyes, “elves are all tall, and fair, and beautiful, and powerful; far more than regular men. Plus they have that whole ‘we know more than everyone else here’ thing going on. That describes you to a tee, love.”

“You seem to know a lot about the different traits that define the races of Middle Earth.  Should I be concerned?” Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re the one who brought up hobbits!”

“I did, but I didn’t know it would awaken the Tolkinian scholar in you.”

“Says the man who knows about the eating patterns of hobbits, and just said ‘Tolkinian’ and ‘Middle Earth’ in the last thirty seconds.”

“What? My father used to read me the books when I was a child. I was always rather fond of the dragon.”

 _He likes dragons?_ John thought, and  slipped an arm around Sherlock’s waist, tightening his hold on his husband. “Fond of possessive creatures with fire in their guts, are you?”

“Oh yes,” Sherlock’s voice rumbled deep in his chest, “though less scales and talons, and more warn skin and firm muscle, would be preferable.”

“I think I have just the thing for you.” John smirked, and flipped them over so he was straddling Sherlock’s narrow hips.

 

Needless to say, they did manage to break their record by a very generous margin that night. And it was only the beginning, they had a lifetime of nights ahead of them too fill with passion, love, and being ridiculously, blissfully happy. It was going to be a good life, John was sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Let me know what you think, I appreciate all feedback!
> 
> (I have some more ideas for this universe, so I'll definitely be visiting it again!)


End file.
